


The Stars Which Join Us

by Chelsbey



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Different stuff than the comic, Fighting, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Other tags to be added, Swearing, im not good with tags, my apologies, oh shit we got a THIRD boy up in here, probably angst, sorry Jojo ily, yeah there will be angst if I write more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelsbey/pseuds/Chelsbey
Summary: After being sent a letter by the Princess, Link begins his journey through the forest. It ends up being a lot larger than the Princess could’ve ever predicted.Making my own story of LU. I love the comic a lot, but I had some different ideas involving other LU aus that I wanna see if I can incorporate into a story. This is my first serious story (all I write is crack lmao), so any constructive criticism is so welcome!As well, I did change the rating to M. There won’t be any “mature” content (I think it would classify as 14+), but Legend has a colourful mouth that I want to take advantage of lmfao.
Relationships: Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

The green meadows rustled in the faint autumn breeze, carrying the new colours of the fall with them. The crunching and cracking of the leaves underneath was satisfying, almost therapeutic, even. Anything to help take the weight off his mind, his back. His steps carried him along the wore path. The path was familiar to him, yet he hadn’t taken it in a while, in almost a decade. When he first married Malon he swore off visiting the forest, as his new life was beginning and he didn’t want any memories of the past. The memories hurt too much, anyway.

The letter was unceremonious, just a request from the Princess, an old friend. She detailed feeling a “presence” brewing in the woods, yet she described never feeling this type of magic before. It was strange. Bizarre. Dark. She requested him to investigate, as she felt his “expertise” would be valuable. What does that even mean, Zelda? 

As Link drew further and further into the forest, he felt it. He wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but he could definitely sense it was some form of magic. He knew why the Princess was so unnerved by this presence, it felt like it was calling to him. No, it was calling to him. Not even just calling, pulling him in. Fear began flooding his veins, his hands going white as he clung to a nearby branch. The invisible force ripped him off, and yanking him by the feet pulled him towards the massive purple portal that just appeared. He hit the dirt, nails pulling strips of earth, and purple waves of magic pulled him ever closer. He couldn’t escape the pull, and was yanked in, and was then unconscious.

~~~

Warm beams of sunlight hit his face when he awoke. Blinking and sighing heavily, he took some deep breaths to reorient, slowing sitting up. Brown, damaged grass sat underneath him, a heavy scent of gunpowder in the reached his nose with each movement. He began to stand. Crack. Getting old was a nightmare. Now to figure out where in Hylia’s name he was. He chose a direction (northeast) and started walking, searching for literally anything familiar.

Of course he was pulled through some magic . . . Thing. Portal? Sure, he’ll go with that. Kicking stones along the path he walked, he scanned the scenery heavily for a sign of direction, for guidance. He’d been brought here for a reason, he knew that much. “Her Highness” Hylia wouldn’t have cast him down into this land unless she had use for a pawn.

His walk stopped as his eyes made contact with a tall, grey wall off in the distance. The stones making the structure were worn and pieces had come off, but the walls still stood strong. A barracks? Barracks meant military, which meant people, which meant he could ask where he was. He starting heading towards the barracks. 

As he marched towards the building, distant shouts alerted his ears. Muffled, Hylian yells, the words indistinguishable from the rustling meadows. Off in the distance, a group of men rose from the horizon. Link stared at the group. What are they yelling? He had no clue. He shrugged, looked away, and continued walki- Oh goddess they’re yelling at me. Having no idea what he arrived into, Link turned to face the men who were rushing towards him, hand moving towards his great sword on his back.

“Halt!” The man at the forefront of the group called to him, running toward Link. Link’s response was silence.

Stopping a decent distance away from him, the man, who Link could now see was heavily armoured and fitted with weaponry, pulled his sword and pointed it at him. “State your purpose, stranger. My troop saw your dark magicks, and as demand of the Queen, you must show your license.”

“. . . License? And that wasn’t my portal,” Link began to protest .

Sharp steel pushed against his throat. The Hylian had closed in on him, pushing the edge of his blade into his neck. “Wise-ass. If you’ve no desire to comply, then you will be imprisoned. For violating the Queen’s orders and for entering forbidden fields. On your knees, criminal.”

Taking his hand off his sword, Link complied and knelt on the ground, hands in raised front of him. The other Hylian men (soldiers, Link reckoned, based on their armour) had caught up with the other man, and surrounded Link with pointed spears and swords. One soldier, a short stout man, grabbed his hands and trapped them inside of handcuffs. Another took his weapons and items, including the pouch which held his precious ocarina. Link knew fighting against the soldiers would only end poorly, for himself and his stuff, so he complied, and allowed the men to lead him wherever they wanted. Funnily enough, he thought, they were bringing him to the barracks, right where he was already heading.

The walk through the barracks was interesting, as it allowed Link to gather valuable information. Green flags and banners, with the Hyrulean cross decorated in lavish gold adorned the fabrics. Wherever he was, it was definitely Hyrule. I guess the main question now is WHEN am I? The buildings inside was just as torn up as the outside, with damaged bricks and destroyed furniture littering the hallways. The courtyard itself was covered with a wide variety of tents, tents that housed soldiers, with the rest of the barracks being inhospitable. A deep red tent, larger than the rest, was where he was brought to, and he was pulled in. Inside was a bed, poorly made but with decent quality sheets, and a soft plush pillow. A small desk sat at the side of the tent, with a writing stool in front of it. An ink jar had spilled over a letter that was being worked on. Hopefully it wasn’t important. A jug and several empty glasses sat on the desk as well, the water inside now dusty like the tent itself, no longer fresh. A small, shambly dining chair sat at the back of the tent. Made of poor oak, the wood finish was falling off and it was cursed with many splinters.

Forcing Link down into the chair, the head soldier drew his blade again and pushed the tip against Link’s neck, drawing a small pearl of blood. The other men produced a rope, and tied him tightly to the chair.

“We’ll let the captain deal with you, dark stranger.” The group left the tent, following the front man.

The sounds of the barracks began to meld in with his own thoughts. The clashing metals of practice swordplay, the shouting commands of higher ups. Link racked his brain, trying to think of any magic that was familiar to the portal he’d seen earlier. He was no stranger to bizarre magic, but nothing came to mind in regards to the portal. He was pulled from his thoughts as footsteps walked by the tent, and stopping directly in front. The individual outside pushed back the fabrics, and stepped inside. 

Link knew immediately who this was. His sandy blond hair was done almost the exact same way it was when he last met him, and he still had that emerald green tunic. No hat this time, which Link was secretly grateful for, as he always thought it looked a little silly. The mans sapphire eyes scanned Link, who was still bound in the chair, the light of familiarity missing from his gaze. 

The main, the captain, removed his eyes from Link and marched over to his desk. He frowned and sighed at the knocked over ink spilling on the letter. He picked up an empty glass and the jug of mucky water. 

“Water?” Pouring himself a cup, the captain offered to Link.

“. . . I’d love some, thank you,” Link replied, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “But my hands are, unfortunately, tied.”

The captain exhaled sharply. “Still being wise I see. They told me you’re a wise guy.”

“I was telling the truth.”

“Well, the ropes are there for a reason.” White knuckles grasped the cup. “You show up in my barracks from seemingly nowhere, reeking of dark magic.” His put his glass on the table with a loud clank. “Where, stranger, did you come from?”

“. . . Around.”

“From around?! Should you be using those wiseass remarks in this situation?” He slammed his cup on the table, water spilling over the edge.

“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Heh. Try me,” the captain walked over to Link, bending down to look in his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve seen, old man.”

“Old man? Thats not very nice.”

The captain tilted his head, eyebrows narrowing menacingly. 

“It’s been a while, Captain. How long has it been for you, a couple years?”

“What are you talking about?”  
Link smiled softly. The barracks and war torn field made sense. The captain was a war hero, after all.

“No recognition at all? Well, it has been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

The captains gaze softened, and he rose from in front of Link. He turned his back towards him, and walked to the desk. “. . . I didn’t receive any letter of reinforcements, or any engineers arriving either. So? Who are you? Speak.”

“I’ve been speaking this whole time, sir.” Link smirked when he spoke, and even though his back was turned, Link made sure he could hear his smirk. 

“No more games, stranger! Who are you and why are you in my barracks?” The captains voice rose fast, settling just below a shout. 

“You always got tired of my games, cap’n. Always called me a smartass, too, so I guess I haven’t changed much.”

“You . . . You’re . . .” The soldiers eyes softened immediately, alit with recognition. 

“Nice to see you, cap’n.”

He sighed, rubbing his hands against his temple. “I thought I recognized those tattoos . . .”

“You do remember me! I thought you might’ve gone senile in your old age!”

“Hah! You’re one to talk, mini-me! How old are you, like, seventy now?”

“Hmph, close enough guess. You don’t seem that shocked by seeing me.”

The captain put his hands on his hips and sighed. “. . . You know what I’ve seen, you were there for most of it. And you’ve still got that little music player -“

“An ocarina?”

“-In your stuff, so of course there’s some timey-wimey bullshit involved.”

“How vulgar,” Link relaxed in his seat, his arms still bound tightly behind the chair. “Is that how you want to speak around, what did you general Impa call me? An “impressionable youth”?”

The captain laughed, an hearty iconic sound. Link always trusted that laugh, felt safe in it. “You aren’t nearly as youthful now, mini-me! How longs’ it been for you, twerp?”

“About two decades, give or take.” He smiled warmly, thinking of the past years with Malon. “You?”

“Wow, that’s long. It’s only been about four years for me. What have you been up to, oldie? Tell me!”

“I’d, uh, love to continue this chat, but my old hands are getting awfully uncomfortable being tied up.”

“Ah ah ah, no. They’re staying on. I’m still not certain it’s you, mini-me. We’ll wait for Lana to verify.”

“You smug bastard.”

“Heh, who’s being vulgar now?”

“How will she know?”

“Something about “sensing magical auras,” and apparently the Triforce pieces have a pretty big aura.”

“I’d believe that.”

“She’ll be here soon. She was the one who first sensed your arrival after all. “Insane amounts of dark magic,”. That, and troop 7 actually seeing the dark portal you came out of. Enough small talk, what was that?”

Link grimaced at the captains words. He had no idea what that portal was, just knew that it sent him this land. “I don’t know. Zelda sent me a letter, describing this magical aura she felt from far in the forest. She asked me to investigate. I went into the forest, and while I was walking that portal appeared and pull me through. Next I know I woke up here. And you know the rest, cap.”

The captain leaned against his desk, digesting the older mans words. His blond hair fell into his eyes, as he placed his hand on his jaw, deep in thought. “Did you recognize this portal?”

“No, not at all. I’ve never seen any portal, or magic, like it before.”

The captain sighed heavily. “If it truly did pull you from another time, then that means we won’t be able to check licenses to find the culprit . . .”

“Licenses? That soldier before asked me for one.”

“Ah, the Queen hadn’t enacted that rule when you were here. In order to stop any extreme magic attack from happening again, the Queen ordered every magic user to become licensed,” he explained. “It has a brief description of their type of magic on it, so we can check licenses to see if someone used a certain magic somewhere. Its a new and wonky system, but its better than nothing, and the Queen is looking to improve it. Lana can explain it better, if you want.”

Link nodded. “Makes sense. Cia wrecked a lot of havoc with her magic.” 

As he ended his sentence, it came again. That feeling. That feeling inside his stomach, his bones, his mind. The same calling he felt when the dark portal first appeared. Glancing at the captain, his face seemed darker than his usual shine, and Link knew he felt it too.

The portal opened behind the tents bed. Ripping Link from the chair, he was being dragged in. His gear sat by the entrance to the tent, and he made a bolt for it, before he was swallowed by the black abyss of magic. The captain clung to the desk his nails scrapping along the surface of the pine, the whipping magic knocking over the water jug with it contents spilling everywhere. The fight was fruitless, as he was quickly consumed by the portal, and after a moment, so was Link.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being pulled through the portal, the two men find themselves in a new world. 
> 
> Yee, it is time for another Link. Who do you think it is? Tell me if you guessed right >:3 . WE GOT A FUCKING TITLEEEEEE

The dark portal spit out the duo as quickly as it engulfed them. Stale dust filled their lungs as they hit the earth. The captain hit his back, the older warrior on his stomach, knocking all the wind out of his body, only to be quickly filled by the musty debris.

“Was that . . . The portal?” The captain sputtered out between ragged coughs.

“. . . Smart guess, cap,” He slowly stood, earning another crack from his back.

The captain slowly rose, dusting the dirt from his tunic. Brushing his golden bangs from his eyes, his eyes searched around where the portal had dumped the two. They appeared to be in a valley, surrounded by towering mountains. The valley itself, unlike the valleys in his own world, was eerily silent. Dead grass sat under his boots, and the little bits of life left in the shrubs was fought over by different creatures, each looking frail yet fighting ravenously.

After gazing at the scenery in front of him, the captain turned to his companion. “This your land, old man? Did we end up back at your place?” The response was a curt nod, as the older fellow carefully studied the surrounding environment.

“I was hoping I’d be done with questing now, captain,” the armoured one started, “But it seems Hylia has other plans for us. No use standing around, we should start walking.” Putting on the gear he managed to grab from his trip in the captain’s era and subsequent arrest, he pulled a compass from his back. Facing east, he started walking, hoping to find any hint of their journey. Removing the remaining dirt from his hair, the captain followed suit.

Besides the soft crinkles of the dead grass underneath their boots, the valley was silent. Unnerving. What should have been bustling with lush flora and rife with sound was completely still.  
“So, what have you been up to?” The shorter blond asked the old man.

He snorted. “Besides being arrested?”

“Tch, you know what I mean, oldie. Damn smartass . . .”

The old man has had the best years of his life since he left the captain. How much did he even wish to tell him? He was an old friend, but was he still the same man? He collected his thoughts, figured he’d start at the beginning.

“Well, for one,” He paused, mulling over his words, worried about revealing too much about himself. “I’ve settled down. I live on a farm, well a ranch to be specific. I’ve got the most beau-“

He was interrupted by a deafening crack, splitting the silence of the valley. Looking to the direction of the sound, they discovered the source. Behind a large dip in the canyon, fierce streams of lightning shot out in every direction. Screams echoed from the area, monstrous howls of pain.

The old man tensed his muscles, sharp eyes looking at the spectacle of thunder. He unsheathed his great sword, he kicked off the ground, he started running towards the scene.

“WAIT!” The captain spoke through the monsters pain. “We just got dumped out of some batty magical portal. We have no idea where we are. Theres some insane light show over there, and you want to join in?”

The old man stopped, lowered his sword and stared at the captain. Annoyed at not convincing his ally, he continued.

“Whatever that thing is that’s sending the lightning, it has the monsters covered. And we can’t even SEE the monsters from here, so we have no idea if another beast is sending that freakshow of light!”

“What if there’s people there, captain? Humans? Or even Hylians?”

“Look around you. Does this place look even somewhat livable for Hylians? For anything? There’s nothing good here.”

The older man sighed. He put his blade away, and stretched his neck. “You’re right as always, cap.”

“Come on, let’s start moving before whatever is over there comes here. Besides, you’re in full platemail. You’re a walking lightning rod, sprite. You’ll be fried cucco by that lightning.”

They continued heading down the valley, away from the lightning storm. The screeching stopped, and with the end of the lightning the silence returned. The cloud left by the lightning battle rolled over the valley engulfing everything in its path. Captain turns his face away from the cloud, pulling his scarf over his mouth and nose. The dead earth underneath showed no signs of life, and any was quickly torn apart by the scouring wildlife, desperate to find any shelter from the cloud. Both of the heroes had travelled through massive deserts, so they were no strangers to the storms of debris, but none reeked of death like the one from this valley.

The cloud rolled over them, settling along the mountainside. Reaching for his waterskin with stiff breaths, unscrewing the cap and placing the tip to his lips, only to turn up unsatisfied and finding little relief. 

“Captain, do you have any water?”

The captain removed his own water skin, handing it to his companion. “It’s running low. I got a bit distracted before I could refill it today.”

“Thank you,” The old man took a small sip from the skin, yet not enough to quench his thirst. 

“I have about three days left of food rations on me, let’s hope it'll be enough.”

Starting their path along the valley again, following the natural movements of the earth, the only sound coming from the clinking of armours and the rustles of the grass. 

Long hours of walking past. The dust coating their clothes and armour fully, a thick layer of dirt on their skin. Amongst the dead grass and debris, the old man spotted some small critters a couple of yards away. They were congregated by a small running creek, which grew small flora around its life-giving water. He alerted the captain, both men changing direction to the stream.

“There’s not enough water here to fill our water skins,” The old man said plainly. “If we follow the stream we can find the source and fill from there.” A simple plan, so the two began following the water. The twists and curves of the water led them up into the mountains, where the only life in the valley seemed to stem from. A small crack in the side of the mountain created a smooth cave, where the crisp water came flowing out of.

The water spilled into the creek from a small pond in the center of the cave. Sparse plants decorated the rocks, yet this empty grotto would be considered lush compared to the dead valley behind them. Small flower vines of different texture bloomed on the walls, in bright pops of colour in the brown musty scenery. Some of the flowers glowed with an eery shine, projecting their hues onto the cold rocks.

Sat by the pond, and scooping water with his hands, was a young Hylian. He was thin, alarmingly thin, but the little flesh on his body was made with muscle. Thick brown curly locks covered his head, dangling into his cocoa eyes and over his short nose, with freckles covering all of the pale skin. Dressed in a green tunic with brown pants and gauntlets, a sword and shield strapped to his back. He was covered in dirt, his clothes a mess, his shield dented and his sword poorly maintained.

The boy stared at the duo who entered the cave, like a small critter waiting for the predators next movement to plot an escape. His eyes quickly darted between them, scanning them rapidly.

“Hail and-“ The old man started, careful not to startle the Hylian further. “Well met, stranger. We are here to fill out water skins, then we’ll be-“

“How did you get here?” The Hylian cut him off, standing up and facing the pair. His voice was quiet, rough, and uncomfortable with being used. His thick eyebrows furrowed, glaring at the old man. “This place is far from any villages. How did you get here through all the monster hordes?” His voice had a slight stutter, but whether it was from anxiety or his own silence was unknown. He slowly reached for his weapons off of his back, taking a defensive position.

The captain raised his hands, palms facing the Hylian. “We mean no harm, we just wish to fill our water skins and leave.”

“Then answer me,” the Hylian replied, unwavering. “How did you get here?”

The old man pulled his lips into a frown, with no idea how to explain the duo’s predicament to the younger. He tensed, glancing to the captain for a way out of this mess.

“We don’t know,” The captain began. “We woke up here a few hours ago and have been looking for any settlement where we can get help. Can you help us?”

The Hylian turned over the captain’s words in his mind, mulling over the truth and lies intermingled in his statement. He searched the captain over again, stopping over his vivid blue scarf, currently covered in dust.

“You have the mark of the royal family,” he stumbled over the last words. “Are you related to the family? To Zelda?”

“We’re soldiers. Knights, actually,” The captain was quick to think of an excuse. “And we’re lost and need help. Can you guide us to the nearest town?” His words were slow and methodical when he asked the question.

Contemplating, the Hylian lowered his sword, the glowing flowers reflecting off the blade. “I can take you to Ruto town, but that’s the best I can do.”

“We’ll take it, thank you.” Lowering his hands, the captain smiled at the Hylian, the expression barely reaching his eyes. Unable to tell if the Hylian believed their fib, he took his waterskin and filled it in the pond, with the old man following suit.

“We leave now, it’s much more dangerous at nighttime.” The Hylian walked to the mouth of the cave, glancing back at the supposed knights. The older men grimaced, their feet already sore from traversing the valley. But they followed the Hylian, grateful for a guide through the mountains.

Stumbling after their guide on tired feet, the captain examined the Hylian. Lone in the wilderness, in this dead valley, he must be a very accomplished adventurer, equipped with some of the best survival skills. His ears twitched whenever they heard even the slightest sound, his steps quiet and light, hardly leaving a trace in the earth. He stayed far away from the pair, always keeping his sword drawn and shield at the ready. The minor foothills and dirt mounds did little to ease their aching bodies, unused to this type of travel. The old man’s head pounded, from dehydration and the traveling. His steps became slow and heavy, his eyes lidded. 

“Can we take a short rest?” The captain chimed, after taking in the condition of his companion. The Hylian looked back, about ten paces away. “We’ve been travelling all day, and the old man here missed his afternoon nap-“ That earned him a smack on the back of the head. “We have food if you’d like.”

The Hylian smiled faintly, and nodded. The captain took that as a yes and plopped down onto the dirt, eager to get a moments rest, the old man following suit.

The Hylian cautiously wandered over, settling down a few metres from the duo, his sword never leaving his side. The captain tossed him a small portion of bread and an apple from his pack. He looked over the morsels, turning them around in his hands, looking at every side and angle. He ripped a crumb from the bread, placed it on his tongue, letting the dull grain melt in his mouth. Content, he tore the bread in half, placing half in his bag and the other to be indulged in. He contemplated eating the apple, but decided against it, placing it into his bag as well. The captain, watching the boy, frowned. He was thin, he needed to eat, yet he insisted on saving some for later. Clearly food was scarce in this land, wherever it was.

“Do you happen to know the name of this area, young man?” The older fellow spoke up, looking at the teen. 

“Spectacle rock,” Was the reply, “Or near to it, I guess.” He pointed north to two mountains side by side, with flat tops barren of any life. 

“You seem to know the place pretty well!” The captain commented, attempting to spark any kind of conversation. “Do you have a map of the land?”

“. . . No,” The Hylian looked down, as if suddenly his hands were the most interesting thing in the valley. “People don’t really make or even use maps here.”

Eager to have any conversation, the captain quickly routed to another topic. “Well, do you know,” He paused, reaching in his mind for anything to ask. “. . . what those flowers in that cave were called? The glowy ones?” The old man snorted at the use of ‘glowy’, earning him a small glare from the captain.

“Dusk lilies,” The Hylian answered, a soft smile returning to his cheeks. “They only grow in the dark, and they glow brightest at dusk.” He moved some of his curly hair out of his eyes, his movements slow. “They’re one of my favourites.” 

Much to the captain’s relief, the topic of flowers seemed to be one the Hylian liked. Chats about flora and different fauna passed amongst them, with the Hylian adding in little tidbits he knew or simply answering questions. Apparently not many different flower types grew here, and they grew sparsely. According to the Hylian, it didn’t rain much here, as it was close to-

“Death mountain?” the old man questioned, staring puzzlingly at the younger. “Are we . . . in Hyrule?”

“. . . Yes?” The younger paused and stared at the old man, as if he grew a third eye, or in his case a second working one. “How did you not know that?”

“Like I said,” the captain jumping in quickly, trying to keep his lie buried. “The old man here missed his nap. We’re both a bit disorientated.” 

Thinking it over for a minute and choosing not to press any further, the now-confirmed-to-be-Hylian slowly began to stand. “Come on, then. It’s getting close to nighttime; we need to find shelter.”

Nodding, the pair packed up their limited items, and followed behind the Hylian.

“if you don’t mind me asking, young man, who are you?” The captain asked, curious about the identity of their guide.

“Just a traveler.” A short and curt reply from the teen, not even looking over his shoulder.

“Does this traveler have a name?”

He paused, stopping in his tracks as he thought about the question. He drummed his fingers along the straps of his sword, thoughts racing. Settling his hands he looked at the captain. “Link.”

The duo immediately looked at each other. Another one? they both thought. Moments of silence felt like a century, only to be broken by the captain.

“Sword, shield, dressed in green, why didn’t we guess it earlier, huh oldie?” He joked, nudging his partner.

The new Link turned to face him, alarmed by the remark. “What on earth do you-agh!” He hollered in pain, kneeling to the dirt below, clenching his head. The old man quickly ran over and knelt beside him, hand on his shoulder keeping a steady presence behind him. “Somethings . . . happening,” Link barely managing to choke out.

Suddenly, the black and purple tendrils of the familiar magic appear, wrapping around the three heroes. The older two knew it was no use attempting to escape the thrall, so they let themselves be pulled in, whisked off to another unknown location with a new companion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being abruptly yanked into yet another portal, the boyos begin to learn some more about each other
> 
> Another chapter in only five days? What??? A new record!! Also this one isn’t beta read or edited, so there will probably be lots of errors and weird phrasings. Lemme know! And the title is finished, I’ve planned lots of star symbolism throughout the story so I thought it was fitting. There’s a bit here, too.
> 
> Also I realized I was switching POV too much in the previous chapter, so hopefully I fixed that bit here. Will be working on that throughout the story, too! This is Hyrule’s POV!
> 
> Last note: we get introduced to a new lad >:) Take another guess and tell me who you thought it would be

Link was dropped onto the ground, stomach hitting the cold gravel, springing pebbles onto his face. Head still ferociously pounding, he attempted to regain his composure. The thuds of his new companions hitting the ground beside him did little to help his mind, panic beginning to take its treacherous hold.

As the portal faded to nothingness, so did the majority of his headache. The dull throbbing was manageable, nothing he couldn’t deal with. He quickly sat up, scurrying away from the two strangers. Taking a deep breath and looking around, Link realized immediately that the trio were not in his land, his home. The lush grass hummed with the chittering of bugs, the songbirds above joining in the natural choir. He stood up, hands scratched by the rocky road underneath, the faint glisten of blood in the scrapes on his palms. The path under his soles was made entirely of stone of various sizes, leading north for an unseen length. Grass going up to his knees and trees five times the size of him, he felt small in comparison to nature’s giants.

“Link.”

His chest started heaving, his thoughts racing. Where was he? When was he? He’d never seen roads like this before, everything in his home was destroyed, or at best just made of dirt. It had been decades since Hyrule looked complete, long before he’d even been alive.

“Link.”

A kind yet firm hand found Link’s shoulder, yanking him from his thoughts. He tore away from the young blonde, immediately drawing his blade and pointing it at the captain. “Where am I?”

Holding his hands up, palms empty and facing the armed man, the captain spoke deep and serious. “The old man isn’t doing well. He’s been wandering for days, longer than I have.” He stared at Link, eyes near pleading. “Help me take him somewhere safe, and I promise we’ll explain everything.”

Staring at the captain, blade nearly at his throat, he scanned the blond for any sign of danger. He moved onto the older man, who knelt a couple of feet away. His armour was battered and covered in grime. His eyes were burdened by bags carrying more than his comparatively light wallet; all framed by his disheveled hair. The he looked was familiar to Link, understanding the pain of travel for unending days without even a blink of rest.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

The captain smiled warmly in response, dropping his hands to his sides. “Thank you.” He paused, glanced over at his counterpart still on his knees by where the portal spat them out. “Grab one side of the old man. I’ll take the other.” He trotted over to the older, taking his left arm over his shoulder and hoisting him up. Link, following the captain’s lead, took the right and placed it over his shoulder. The older fellow nodded and mumbled a quick thanks. Providing a decent support for the larger man, they began to follow the stone path to an unknown destination.

They walked in silence for a while, taking in the crickets of twilight. The late day sun gradually moved below the horizion. The sky—a wash of warm colours giving way to dark night—shine through the trees which shook lightly in the cooling breeze. Link looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of stars amongst the night sky. He lives by their lights, their patterns, to find his way wherever he needs to go. He frowned, during their walk a thick cloud layer had set in above. Not a single light broke through the fog above. He lived by the stars, breathed by their glows, basked in the always constant familiarity of the dark.

“You hearing me, Link?”

Abruptly pulled out of his thoughts, he turned to the speaker. Just barely able to see the captain on the opposite side of the armoured man, Link made a questioning sound, signifying he hadn’t heard a word at all.

“I said we’re just like you.”

“Huh?”

“Me and the old man,” the captain began to explain, grunting slightly as the weight of the older was distracting and tough to manage. “We’re both named Link.”

“I’ve never meet anyone else named Link before.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the only similarity,” the captain took a deep breath, debating on how to tackle the next question. The old man beat him to it.

“You conquered Ganon, correct?”

Link’s head spun at the mention, eyes wide and pupils dilated. 

“We’ve all fought incarnations of that pig, and we’re all deemed heroes in our respective lands.”

The captain nodded along to the older’s words. “Oldie here fell through a portal right into my world, then we were sent to yours.”

Link bit his lip, reflecting on this revelation. “Like that gateway we came out of?”

Both men nodded. “Exactly like that,” the captain replied. “We didn’t realize you were like us when we met you, so we lied and said we were knights.”

“It wasn’t very convincing.”

Link’s abrupt comment earned a snort from the old man in between them. The captain rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the unintentional criticism. “So, since we’re all Link, we’ve come up with names for each other. That’s why this fella,” he pats the elder on the back with the hand giving him a boost, “is called the Old Man.”

“Because he’s old?”

“Because he’s old,” the captain confirmed. “I go by Captain, that’s my rank in the army. So we need a name for you. Any ideas?”

Link paused and contemplated, leaving only the small noises of discomfort from carrying the armoured man to fill the silence. He had no idea what kind of nickname he should have. He wasn’t a captain, or any kind of knight. That sort of role was near nonexistent in his land, anyway. Furrowing his eyebrows, deep in thought, the mild headache still knocking on his temples. 

Sensing the younger’s trouble, the oldest questioned. “Have you done anything special?” He glanced at the brunet, having to turn his head to see the young man due to his blind eye. “The captain’s a captain, that’s special. I guess I’m special because of my age and because the captain’s an ass.”

The relaxed and natural conversation put a smile on Link’s face, a quiet giggle escaping his lips. He looked around again, not meeting the elder’s eye. “I’m not . . . I’m really just a traveler.”

“Traveler works,” the captain exclaimed. “It’s different from our nicknames so it’ll work. You okay with that?”

Traveler. He mulled over the word a few times in his head, bouncing the sounds around his mind. His lips pulled into a small smile again, and nodded. “That sounds fine.”

“Then it’s settled. Welcome aboard, Traveler.” 

Link, or now the Traveler, went back to looking at the landscape. Nothing had changed much in their short march, the trees beginning to thin but still standing as the Mother Nature’s gentle giants. The deep emerald grass from before was cloaked in darkness, the only light illuminating the pasture came from the tranquil fireflies that hovered over its blades. 

“Are you . . . okay with being called old man?” The traveler questioned, not one for asking questions or speaking unless necessary, so his voice was quiet and rough from disuse.

The eldest chuckled, a deep hearty sound that echoed from his stomach. “The captain didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Hey, it fits to a tee,” the captain laughed. “What name would you like then, but I can’t promise I’ll use it.”

“Well, I work on a ranch. I help my wife milk the cows and sell that milk in Castletown and Kakariko.”

“Milk man,” the traveler nodded.

A loud laugh escaped the other two, the traveler whirling his head at the sound. He looked confused, he didn’t understand why they were laughing at his statement. “If not milk man . . . Maybe just farmer? Or something?”

“Farmer works,” the captain replied, wiping a quick tear from his eyes. “Our farming Milk Man,” he said with a genuine smile tugging at his lips, reaching his crisp blue eyes. 

“Captain, if i can ask,” the now dubbed Milk Man spoke, “a phrase you said moments ago i don’t understand. Something about “tea?”

“Yeah, you know, “fits to a tee,” like a golf tee?”

“A golf tea?”

“You don’t have golf in your time, oldie? Well its this game where you have sticks, but they’re called golf clubs, and you smack the ball—“

The captain was yanked out of his thoughts by a darkened figure, standing several yards away from the trio. He had a small lantern, lighting the stone road the three walked on. The light shone onto his cloak, which was pulled over most of the mans face. He had a tough build, short yet strong, a sturdy and reliable appearance. His face was covered, but underneath the hood of the cloak was a thick grey beard, trimmed at the edges giving it a sharp finish. He stared at the trio who had stopped in their tracks and banter upon seeing the silhouette, his eyes unseen to the three but glancing at every aspect of the strangers. His voice was gruff, aged by his many years of life. “You men look like shit.”

The trio look at themselves. Covered in grime from the dust storm, armour beaten by being thrown from magic gateways, scraiptched skin and thick purple bruises covering their bodies. Their hair no longer blond and brown, now painted a musty grey like the dried earth after a drought that choked a valley.

The silhouette spoke again, this time pulling back his hood. He had a green bandana holding back thick grey locks, hair reaching down past his shoulders, done roughly in a ponytail. Fierce meaty eyebrows set on his face, hiding his piercing eyes. “I have a blacksmith up the road. Do you boys need a place to stay for the night?”

The three glanced at each other, silent conversation and debate passing through their minds. Looking at the old man in between them, however, was the final straw. Despite his banter and conversational skills, he looked exhausted. Heavy bags under his eyes were illuminated in the lanterns glow, and every piece of armour had a sizeable dent or bend. Blond hair with the usual part now looked muddy, with the split nowhere to be found, his mysterious red and blue facial markings almost completely hidden by the muck. Considering the safety of his allies, the captain accepted the offer of the stranger. “We’d love a place to stay, thank you.”

The stranger began to turn back down the stone road. “Follow me then. My shop is small but it’ll hold the three of you just fine.”

Marching behind the unknown man, following the twists of the track, the kicking of pebbles and scraping of leather soles echoing into the night. After several minutes of silence, the trees thinned into nothing and a wide field was in view. Off to the side of the field sat a small foothill, barren of trees besides one at the summit but lush with weeds and grass, the bottom of the hill held a sign unreadable by the dark of night. Sat on top of the hill was a small house, built of yellow wood and smooth grey bricks, a tall chimney escaping from the roof. A hulking dark wood door sat at the front, the colour of walnut giving the impression of security but also a homely feel. A shoddy yet sturdy wooden staircase built into the hill led up to the house, the edges of the wood now soft because of time and frequent use.

Leaning against the cool grey stones of the house was a young person, looking no older than twelve. Hair pulled back into a high pony, square bangs hanging in front of their eyes that couldn’t be collected by the backs of their sharp ears. Wearing simple clothes, ragged garments that loosely fit the individual, they stood with an air of confidence outside their house, one foot up on the wall the other providing a sturdy support into the ground. Arms crossed against their chest, they watched the stranger lead the three men onto the steps and on the front porch. The stranger tilted down to the younger, whispered into their ear. The younger nodded, replying a quiet sentence.

Pulling away from the smaller individual, the gruff stranger turned to the three. “This’s my grandson. He’ll take you to the room you’ll be using.” 

“Come with me,” the grandson faced the grand door, its lofty presence towering over the smaller man. Pulling it open he extended an arm in an universal “right this way” gesture. The three hobbled into the shop.

Greeting them upon entry was the soft oranges of a lit fireplace, the dying embers cascading its glow around the living room. A man-sized shag rug sat in front of the ingle, the grey fibres glowing red in the dim light. Cozy armchairs in various colours decorated the room, rife with wear and tear from years of love and heavy use. Bookshelves of various sizes lined the walls, most full of various novels on numerous topics; mystery, action, botany, black smithing, romance, any genre of book lived on these shelves. At the far end of the salon, a cherry wood staircase led up stairs, and along that wall held another heavy door, this one made of mahogany.

The young man beckoned to the trio who were taken aback by the wide variety of colours, somehow clashing yet finding a perfect mismatched harmony with one another. Guiding the group to the stairs, and leading them up, he opened the door to the room on the left. Inside sat a fairly small room, walls coloured a tan colour that shone under the light of a lantern on the lone desk against the wall. A small bed rested in the middle of the room, covered with a quilt of multi colours, neatly made and pressed to a fine point. Pillows adorned the bed, each garnished with a plush fringe. 

“Here, you can stay here for the night. Sorry there’s only one bed, but we should have extra blankets downstairs,” the blond started. “Gramps said you can head to the bathhouse in town tomorrow, too, if you’re interested.”

“This’ll be perfect, thank you,” the captain replied, helping to set the old man onto the bed. The oldest began to take off his armour with the assistance of the captain as the older’s fingers began to fumble, cursed with sleepiness.

“Grampa‘s been doing nightly walks to make sure the areas clear of monsters,” the younger explained. “He said he heard voices down the road and found you folks. We gotta take care of each other, yeah?”

“Have there been more monsters than usual lately?” The captain questioned in response, beginning to take off his military boots and wrist guards.

“Yeah. Weird ones, too,” the youngest replied. The dim light from the lantern and the shine from the night sky reflected into his eyes, which made a quizzical expression, as he drew his hand to his chin. “I’ve never seen ones like them before.”

The three looked to each other, thousands of queries being passed to one another. The blond lightly shook his head, dismissing the conversation. “I’ll let you three get to bed. If you need anything just give a holler. I’ll be bunking in my gramps room. The spare blankets are under the bed.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” the captain ever the nobleman, gave a small bow of gratitude. “I’m sorry, we didn’t catch you or your grandfather’s name?”

“My grampa goes by Smith, he’s the main blacksmith at the forge. My name’s Link.” The blond smiled, his eyes bouncing the light of the bedroom. He walked out door, shutting it quietly behind him.

After the reveal of the new Link, a hefty silence filled the room. 

“He’s one of us?” The traveler pondered in natural tone, soft and quiet. “He looks so young.”

“Is this a goddamned pattern now?” The farmer raised, rubbing his bridge with his thick eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “Every place we go has a new hero to meet? Why did Hylia choose another so young?”

“He looks no older than twelve,” the captain plopped onto the side of the bed, armour off, the exhaustion weighing him down more than his own gear. He reached for his bag and pulled out a comb, neatly brushing through his golden locks. He sighed, not even the gentle strokes of a hairbrush took the tension out of the trio’s situation. “Well, we’re at a blacksmith shop. We can get our gear patched up, at the very least.”

The old man, having been forced to the bed, grunted in agreement, eyelids heavy with the whispers of sleep. Attempting to sit up to look at his companions, he was met with a sturdy hand guiding him back down. 

“Nope, you’re not getting up. You told me you’ve been on the road for over four days with next to no sleep. You’re sleeping here,” the old man opened his mouth to protest but was met with another hand pinching his lips in a playful manner. “Nah, not another word, oldie. Hush. Sleep. Me and the traveler will set our own beds up.” The farmer immediately smacked his hand away and flopped down onto the bed.

The traveler, watching this display from the corner of the room, began to sit down on the hardwood floor. Placing his bag against the wall, he patted it, transforming it into a makeshift pillow as he’d done a million times. He removed his shield, placed it beside his sack, and clasped his sword to his chest. Getting ready to lie down, his coppery eyes made brief contact with sapphire ones, rife with worry. The traveler quickly turned away as the captain began to ask.

“Do you not have a sleeping mat? Or anything to sleep with?” The captain queried, a worrying sound with a hint of pity in his tone. The traveler stiffened. Sleeping mat? As in a bed? He’d not even heard of a sleeping mat, let alone had one. He abruptly shook his head no, looking around at the spirals of wood grain in the smooth floorboards. While concentrating on a particularly nice looking wood knot, a light object hit him in the face, bouncing off into his lap in a weightless free fall. Another item followed suit, this one warmer and heavier. Examining the items, he discovered a pillow and a quilt, covered in mismatched patches and sewn together haphazardly.

“The kid said we can borrow his stuff. We’ll get you your own bed gear tomorrow, aight?” The soldier smiled and winked at the traveler. He blushed out of slight embarrassment, wondering if the captain just liked to wink. The brunet mumble a quick thank you as the captain set up his own bed on the hardwood. The traveler set up his own supplies, keeping his sword in his hands, and settled down for the coziest night he had in years. Lulled into sleep’s tight embrace, he drifted off into slumber.


End file.
